


Five First Dates and a Matchmaking Robot

by Hopeless_1322



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Alien Cultural Differences, Alternate Universe, Dib being oblivious, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Dates, Fluff and Humor, GIR trying to be helpful, High School, Miscommunication, Multi, Teenage Shenanigans, Zim being a nervous wreck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:13:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23273011
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hopeless_1322/pseuds/Hopeless_1322
Summary: Five messy first dates between a certain ex invader and his former nemesis.
Relationships: Dib & Gaz (Invader Zim), Dib & Zim (Invader Zim), Dib/Zim (Invader Zim), Gaz & Zim (Invader Zim), Gaz/Original Character(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 82





	1. Chapter 1

From the first day that Zim arrived on planet Earth, he could tell that the human race was much different from the Irken race and, in his biased opinion, inferior to their Irken counterparts in every possible way.

Now, after several years of living among humans, Zim’s opinion has admittedly changed. Zim has learned that humans can be witty, can be kind hearted and generous (two traits almost unheard of on Irk), and even creative. Zim hates to say it, especially considering why he came to this planet in the first place, but humans truly aren’t so bad, not all of them, anyway.

Things have changed drastically for Zim since his arrival on Earth in many ways besides his changed perspective on humans, as his own personal identity has undergone some serious alterations as well. After three years of attempting to take over the planet for his Tallests, Zim was informed that the Empire no longer wanted Earth, having had found a much better planet where invaders had already been deployed.

Furthermore, Zim was no longer needed after having proved his incompetence through his struggle to take over a planet as ‘back water’ and ‘simplistic’ as Earth, especially since his only roadblock was an overly nosy kid with a pair of binoculars. 

After losing his status as an invader and basically being disowned by his own race, Zim had been at a loss for what to do with himself. He could go back to Irk and be seen as a shameful excuse for an Irken, ridiculed and ostracized even more so than he had been before his failed mission, or he could planet hop and live like a nomad, spending the majority of his time warming bar stools in outer galaxy restaurants.

Zim did neither of these things, instead being convinced to stay on Earth by none other than the Dib-pig, who had shyly asked Zim to take him with him to see space. Zim had outright refused, shocked that his enemy would want to abandon his life on Earth and come with him, but was even more surprised with how sad the human looked, cheeks pink and glasses steamed up from tears.

“I just...I don’t know...this is going to sound pathetic but you’re kind of the closest thing I have to a friend….sad, right? I know, you don’t have to tell me, but...I don’t really have anything here, Zim. Everyone at school thinks I’m crazy, my dad’s never home and thinks I’m a disappointment, and Gaz has friends to keep her company if I were to, I don’t know, suddenly disappear. I’m sort of...invisible.”

Long story short, Zim ended up staying.

It’s been four years now, and the decision to stay on Earth has set the former invader up with a pretty good life...at least as good as it gets for an Irken trying to fit in with humans. He attends the high school like any other stinky, teenager, and has actually befriended his former rival. Dib seems to appreciate Zim’s company more than anything, despite how the Irken used to drive him up the wall. Now the two of them eat lunch together, spend their Friday nights on Zim’s patched up couch watching Mysterious Mysteries, and regularly waste time goofing around with the outdated Irken technology in Zim’s lab.

Despite its many drastic changes, life is good. Zim is decently adjusted to high school life, and as much as an honorable adversary as Dib-pig was, he’s an even better friend who still gives Zim’s life meaning, albeit now in a very different way.

But, of course, as the Irken motto goes; “Never become to comfortable with your surroundings, as everything can change in the flick of an antenna.”

This is universally true, and Zim is no exception. Just as he really begins to grow comfortable with his blossoming friendship with the Dib, just as he begins to actually understand anything that’s going on in algebra class and learns what a ‘meme’ is, something changes and Zim finds himself in unfamiliar territory all over again.

Zim starts to find that his squeedly spooch feels funny and his cheeks get warm when the Dib smiles at him. 

These physical reactions scare the alien, as they can only mean two things...either Dib has given him a nasty human virus or he is...in love with the human.

It’s not that love is unheard of on Irk. Irkens can fall in love just like humans can, but love on Irk is...different. If one Irken feels the desire to make another Irken his or her mate they will simply ask. No annoying courtship rituals, no ambiguous dancing around the question, just a simple question. If an irken gets a ‘yes’, the two are free to entwine hands and antenna in public and, if they wish, partake in more sexual acts within the privacy of their own pods. If an Irken gets a ‘no’, they simply move on with their four heavy hearts until they deem another Irken worthy of their affections, but considering how particular Irkens are…it’s unlikely to happen.

But a human? Zim has fallen for a human? No doubt the Dib is intelligent, far more so than Zim would ever think any human capable, and much more attractive, too. Cross-species breeding is considered horribly taboo on Irk, and as far as Zim is aware, it is on Earth, too. Not to mention that Zim and Dib are both male….this wouldn’t be an issue back home on Irk, but on Earth Zim has observed mixed opinions concerning same-sex couples…

The heart wants what the heart wants, though, and Zim finds himself incapable of moving on from these bothersome emotions. He tries everything he can think of to ignore them, including ditching an entire week of school to distance himself from the Dib, but to no avail.

Zim is just as smitten by his friend when he sees him again the following Monday.

“What is Zim to do?” The Irken asks himself as he paces around his lab. “I cannot seem to control these feelings...perhaps I can exterminate them? Computer, how does one fall out of love?”

“Searching for ways to fall out of love….processing,” the robotic voice announces, followed by a series of loud whirring noises. “The best way to fall out of love with your ex is to distance yourself from them if at all possible. Out of sight, out of mind.”

“I have already tried that!” Zim cries, shaking his head. “Besides….I missed the Dib-thing when not at school…”

“Another way to attempt losing affectiones for your ex partner is to dispose of all objects that remind you of them. For example; photographs, articles of clothing, and ticket stubs.”

Zim ponders this for a moment before hastily shaking his head. The only thing he has to remind him of Dib are a few blurry photographs of the two of them that GIR has taken over the last few years.

The Irken cannot even bear to think about getting rid of them.

“What else can I do?” Zim asks his computer with a sigh. 

“Many people find that distracting themselves helps ease the pain of heartbreak. Taking hobbies such as reading, knitting, swimming, or pottery making can serve as great ways to pass the time and lead to the forming of new friendships.”

“I don’t want to to distract myself from the Dib…”

“Perhaps a confrontation with your ex will help. Many times unexpressed feelings can build up and cause one emotional turmoil.”

“A confrontation?” Zim muses, toying with the idea. “Perhaps you’re right, computer. If I am to confront the Dib about my emotions, I may feel better knowing that he is aware! Maybe he will even return my affections if I am to approach him with the proper Earth rituals of courtship to show my dedication and prove my worth as a mate!”

The Irken, feeling as if he has finally found the solution to his predicament, quickly sits down in front of his computer, prepared to spend the rest of the evening studying up on human mating rituals in hopes of educating himself on how to attract his Dib-pig.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Is your alien boyfriend okay?” Gaz asks with a raised eyebrow, watching Zim prowl around the perimeter of the cafeteria with a notepad and pen, all but stalking several tables. “He’s acting….weirder than usual.”

Dib sighs and shrugs, noticing that several students are beginning to grow impatient with Zim’s observational eye. If he doesn’t stop soon he’s going to end up in another one of Chunk’s choke holds or find himself being the target of one of Zita’s humiliating rants. 

“I don’t know...he’s been doing that all day.”

“Doing what?”

“Watching people and taking notes like he’s performing some sort of weird social experiment. Chunk already tried to shove him in a locker for staring at him during algebra…”

“He watched him the entire class?” Gaz asks, eyes going wide.

“Yep, the entire class.”

“Damn. He’s going to get his ass kicked if he doesn’t knock it off, one of the guys over there is going to think that he’s eyeing up their girlfriend.”

Dib blanches and nods in agreement, watching as one of the girls sitting at the table that Zim is currently observing begins to grow visibly agitated with the alien. She quickly whips around and starts chewing Zim out for his odd behavior, using selective words such as ‘creep’ and ‘freak’. Of course, Zim, in his typical fashion, jabs a finger in the girl’s face and begins to yell back at her, causing quite the scene.

Dib, fast to keep Zim out of trouble as always, quickly hops to his feet and waves his arms like he’s seizing to catch his friend’s attention. “Hey, Zim! Come here!”

The Irken looks over at Dib and is suddenly all smiles, any anger towards the girl who is currently up in his face and yelling gone. Zim shoves past the angered girl and begins to all but skip over to his usual table, leaving behind several frustrated and confused students.

“What is it, my Dib-stink?”

“You’re going to get yourself killed, dipshit,” Gaz says with a firm nod. “Seriously, Space Boy, watch yourself.”

“I am simply making some observations!” Zim exclaims with the most innocent face he can pull. “I see nothing wrong with trying to learn more about the humans I am surrounded by!”

“I don’t either, but, uh...people think it’s weird when you just stand behind them and stare like that, Zim,” Dib explains awkwardly. “You know that if you have any questions about the human race you can just ask me, right? I am a human after all.”

“Debatable,” Gaz quips.

“I know, Dib-thing, but I wanted to observe humans who I do not know well for this particular experiment. It will not work if I use you to obtain my data.”

“Why not?” DIb asks curiously, leaning over the lunch table in an attempt to get a glimpse of what’s written down on the notepad.

“I cannot tell you yet,” Zim says, clutching the notepad to his chest and frowning. “I will tell you once the experiment is over.”

A few years ago this situation would have made Dib extremely suspicious and concerned for the fate of humanity, but now, after several years of friendship with the failed invader, Dib chalks it up to the alien honestly trying to figure something out about his surroundings.

“Alright. If I can help you at all, just let me know.”

“Much thanks, Dib,” Zim replies with a smile. “Gaz, would you be willing to help Zim with his experiment?”

“No,” the sophomore replies flatly. 

“Please? Zim needs subjects that he can test without the threat of bodily harm to appease the Dib!” The alien whines with a childish pout. “I need information, data! You are a suitable life form, so why won’t you help Zim?”

Gaz opens her mouth to object again but is unfortunate enough to catch a glimpse of her older brother’s pleading face before she can refuse. He really does look just as desperate as Zim, hoping that she’ll cooperate just to help keep the little green bastard out of trouble...besides, whenever Zim gets into trouble, Dib is always close behind…

“Fine,” Gaz groans with a sigh. “I’ll help you. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

“Nothing! Absolutely nothing! Go about your daily business and do not change anything just because the almighty Zim happens to be watching!” 

“Alright, but the bathroom is off limits, alright, Space Boy?”

“Certainly,” Zim agrees with a nod, already picking up his pen and beginning to jot down notes. 

Gaz groans and rolls her eyes, grabbing her brother by the hood of his jacket and pulling him close. “I’m doing this for you, because you make me weak with those stupid puppy dog eyes,” she growls through clenched teeth.

“I love you, too, Gaz,” Dib replies with a soft smile.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gaz had a feeling that agreeing to help Zim out with whatever freaky, alien experiment he’s currently working on was a stupid decision, but she had no idea that it would be this excruciatingly annoying.

Zim is adamant about following her around all day long, going as far as to ditch his own classes in order to sit beside Gaz during her own and watch her work. Most of the teachers, who are completely used to Zim’s bizarre antics after three years of putting up with him, don’t seem to care and simply let it happen. Only the ceramics teacher bothers to even point out that the invader is in the wrong class.

By the end of the school day, Gaz is ready to snap and choke the alien out.

“How’s the experiment going?” Dib asks as the trio begins to walk back to the Membrane household. 

“So-so…” Zim mumbles, face buried in his notepad. “I’m afraid your sister unit is not partaking in the activities that I had been hoping she would…”

“You told me to go about my own goddamn business!” Gaz snaps with an exasperated roll of her eyes. “What is it that you want me to do?”

“I cannot tell you, that would ruin the entire experiment, Gaz-human!” Zim replies, sounding just as irritated as the moody teenage girl. “Do not lose faith...you are human, meaning that you are bound to eventually do what I anticipate.”

“I’m not human, Zim, I’m a reptilian shapeshifter sent from the planet Draconia,” Gaz replies with a straight face, voice dripping with sarcasm.

“This is a sign that my sister is scarily obsessed with ‘Doctor Who’, Zim. You should write that down,” Dib suggest with a smile, earning himself a shove from his sister.

Zim simply laughs, drawing a crude telephone booth on the upper left hand corner of his notepad, right next to his sketch of a misshapen heart with a certain, special name written on it.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Zim’s stalking at school was annoying to the nth degree, but having the Irken at home is even worse.

Zim keeps good on his promise of not following Gaz into the bathroom, but every other room is fair game, meaning that Zim stares at her non-stop while she does her homework, watches TV, eats dinner, plays her Game Slave, and brushes her teeth in the evening.

The nightmare seems like it might be over when Gaz crawls into bed and Zim disappears across the hallway to hang out with her idiot brother, however, the second Gaz gets dressed and steps foot outside her bedroom in the morning, the Irken is standing mere inches away from her, waiting. 

“You’re really serious about this observation thing, aren’t you?” Gaz asks with a soft sigh, glancing up from her Game Slave to see Zim staring at her intently. “Seriously, why don’t you just give up? It’s way easier than all the trouble you’re going through, trust me.”

“Silly, Gaz, Zim cannot just give up!” The Irken exclaims, jumping up from his seat at the kitchen with enough force to rock the table, costing Gaz one of her three lives. “I need answers! I need to understand!”

“Hey, asshole, watch it!” Gaz snaps with a groan, watching as her avatar is eaten alive by mutant pigs. “Look, I have no idea what this is about, but it’s stupid. This is the second day that you’ve followed me around! Can’t we at least just keep this experiment limited to school days? I feel like I should have my weekend to myself!”

“Zim is observing!”

“Observing what?!” Gaz asks, smacking her fist down on the tabletop. “There’s nothing to observe! Jesus, you’re just like my idiot brother! Back when you two weren’t all buddy-buddy he used to spend hours skulking around your base, taking pictures and babbling on and on about it afterwards!”

“Because the Dib is very observational like me! He knows how to conduct an experiment.”

“My dad would disagree,” Gaz mumbles flatly with a sigh, turning off her gaming system and getting up to get herself a can of soda out of the fridge. “Look, Zim, why don’t you just go upstairs and hang out with my brother again like you did last night? Give me a break, okay?”

“Is everything okay in here?” Dib asks, poking his head into the kitchen. He could hear his best friend and sister screaming at one another from upstairs and figured it would be better to handle the situation before a civil war started.

“Everything is fine, Dib-friend,” Zim says with a soft sigh. “You sister-unit doubts my ability to complete my experiment.”

“Yeah, Gaz kind of doubts everything. Don’t let it get to you.”

“I’m right here, you know,” Gaz grumbles, tossing two cans of soda onto the table for her brother and his idiot companion to help themselves to. 

“I know, but so do you,” Dib reasons with a shrug. “No harm, no foul, right?”

“True, true,” Gaz drawls with an exhausted sigh, truly worn out from a full day of being stalked.

“So, the experiment isn’t going well I take it?”

“No,” Zim admits sheepishly, looking through his notes and seeing nothing of value. He got much more data from the random couples sucking face at school than he’s gotten from the sullen goth girl. “Perhaps a change in scenery would help.”

“A change in scenery?” Dib asks curiously. “Where do you want to go?”

Zim’s antennas twitch as he thinks. Where do most high school students go when they want to observe their beautiful classmates? Where can a human go to spy on people that they deem attractive without it being socially unacceptable by teenage standards?

“The mall!” Zim declares. “We are going to the mall!”

“The mall?” Gaz and Dib ask in unison, both looking shocked and confused. Sure, most teenagers love hanging out at the mall with friends, aimlessly strutting around the place like they own it, overpriced coffee in hand as they window shop, but Zim hates the mall.

The first time Dib took the alien to the mall was around the holidays to help him pick out a Christmas gift for Gaz, and it went horribly. Zim spent the entire time complaining about the crowds and saying that the strong smell of perfume from the beauty department was killing him. Dib isn’t too fond of the mall either, since it’s a prime place to bump into douchey classmates, and Gaz doesn’t like going out period.

“You want to go to the mall?” Dib asks slowly. 

“Yes!” 

“On a Saturday afternoon?”

“Yes!”

“Well then, you two have fun drowning in the crowds,” Gaz says with a dismissive wave, taking this chance to attempt and escape to the family room. Maybe her luck will change and something good will be on TV to help her cope with the trauma of the last twenty four hours…

“No, you need to come with us so that I can continue to conduct my experiment!” Zim insists. “The whole point of going to the hell that is the mall is so that I can complete my observations!”

“I am not going to the mall on a Saturday afternoon!” Gaz hisses, putting her foot down. Sure, she let the Space Boy follow her around all of yesterday and ruined her own Friday night to make her loser of a brother happy, but no way she’s going to a swamped mall just to be watched like a three headed hippopotamus. 

“Gaz-thing, if you go with me and Dib-pig to the mall the experiment will be over!” The alien reasons pleadingly. “You will be left to your own devices if you simply accompany us!”

“Sounds like a pretty good deal, Gaz,” Dib says with a sigh, hoping that his sister agrees to go for the sake of his sanity. Gaz is clearly sick of Zim following her around, and when she gets really and truly fed up, everyone's life is miserable.

“Yes, Gaz!” Zim agrees with an eager nod, draping an arm around Dib’s shoulders as casually as he can manage to. “Come with us to the mall!”

Gaz groans dramatically. “Oh my God! Fine, but then we’re done with this dumb experiment of yours, Space Boy! No more following me around like a deranged reporter, no more bull shit!”

“Deal.”  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gaz truly doesn’t want to have fun. No fucking way, she’s basically coming to ditch her brother’s dorky alien boyfriend and not because she expects to actually enjoy herself. She is, in loose terms, a hostage trying to escape her merciless captives.

She reminds herself of this every time she almost smiles or laughs.

The trio, despite not knowing their way around the giant building all that well, has plenty of fun simply wandering around and snooping around inside of shops they deem interesting. One of these shops happens to be the video store, where they giggle at the ridiulous looking porno advetisments and pose next to the huge character and celebrity cutouts like they’re twelve years old. 

Up next is the video game store, where Gaz easily spends thirty bucks on a new game for her Game Slave while Dib and Zim mess around with cheapy, plastic Pokeballs and pretend to be one another’s pokemon in the arena.

“Zim, I choose you!” Dib shouts dramatically, causing several other customers to turn around and watch the strange green boy jump around like a ninja. “Use annoyance attack!”

It gets even crazier when two preteen boys decide to play along, pitting Dib up against a fresh, freckled face kid who’s trying to use his asthma inhaler as a weapon to do ten percent damage.

Gaz may or may not have been shaking from suppressed laughter.

Of course, since Dib is present, they just have to take a look inside of the creepy, paranormal, conspiracy theorist-esq shop that sells bizarre things such as spell books, ouija boards, and protection amulets. Gaz accidentally forgets herself and laughs out loud when the greasy looking man clad in an X-Files shirts behind the counter recognizes Dib from his previous visits and welcomes him.

Zim takes great interests in the Martian bobble heads and talks Dib into buying him one, saying, “Look, Dib-stink, something with a bigger head than you!”

“Very funny, Zim.”

“You should buy it.”

“Why?”

“It’s not every day Zim sees something with a bigger head than you, Dib-friend.”

Dib laughs softly and gives Zim a playful shove, but he buys the bobble head regardless without any argument. 

“You know, there is one thing about the big headed alien that is different from you, Dib,” Zim says pensively with a nod as the cashier rings them up.

“Uh, the fact that it’s a plastic bobble head and I’m a human being with thoughts and feelings?” Dib asks with a chuckle, digging around in his jean pocket for his wallet.

“Yes, that, but it’s head is nothing compared to yours.”

Gaz quirks an eyebrow, beyond confused. Was that supposed to be a compliment? If she didn’t know any better, she’d think the Space Boy is trying to make a move on her brother…albeit awkwardly and unconventionally.

“Why thank you, Zim,” Dib says with a laugh, smiling in mock pride. “I do feel that my head is something to be proud of.”

Zim grins to himself before taking out his notepad again, flipping through the pages before letting out a low whistle that causes Dib to crack up and the cashier to stare between the two freaks in semi-confusion.

It’s at this point that Gaz realizes, yes, Zim is in fact trying to flirt with her clueless older brother. 

Holy shit.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“I only like the green and red ones!” Zim says with a pout, crossing his arms over his chest. “Stop trying to poison me with these yellows, pinks, and oranges!”

“They all taste the same!” Dib counters with a laugh, shaking the box of Mike and Ikes in Zim’s face. “You can’t even tell what flavor they are.”

“Can too!” Zim argues, snatching the box of candy out of his friend’s hand and fishing himself out a handful of reds and greens. 

“Can not!” 

“Can too!”

“Can not!”

Gaz sips her strawberry milkshake and watches Zim and her brother go back and forth, back and forth. It reminds her of the spats the two of them used to have in middle school except that now there’s no heat or malice behind their words but instead friendly smiles and laughter.

“Look, let’s test our theories,” Dib challenges with a smirk. “You close your eyes and I’ll feed you three pieces, okay? If you can somehow guess the flavors correctly, I’ll admit that you’re right.”

Zim simply grins and closes his eyes. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Dib-pig. If you lose you will have to tell the almighty Zim that he is right!”

Gaz rolls her eyes and tries not to think about how incredibly gay her brother feeding Space Boy candy looks. Jesus, anyone who happens to glance across the food court and see them would clearly think that they’re an item...except for Dib of course, who seems totally clueless as to what the hell is going on between him and his former enemy.

“Victory for Zim!” The Irken suddenly screeches, snapping Gaz back from her thoughts. “I told you Dib! I told you that Zim could do it!”

Dib laughs and throws the box of candy at him, demanding a rematch before Zim gets up and begins chasing him around the table. 

“You cheated!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“You know what? I’m going to go buy another box and retest you, alien scum! But this time I’m forcing you to put your hands over your eyes for extra reassurance!” Dib shouts through a laugh.

“Fine! Retest me, Dib, but I will still pass!” Zim replies, sticking out his tongue teasingly at his friend’s retreating form. “Zim always wins!”

“Except for when you don’t,” Gaz teases dryly, watching the alien retake his seat. “So...are we done with your dumb experiment yet? I haven’t seen you taking many notes, Space Boy, you’ve been too busy goofing off with my older brother.”

“The experiment is still in session,” Zim replies. “You have not done what I was hoping you would yet, Gaz-thing...I can not finish my data.”

“Jesus, Zim! What is it that I’m supposed to do?! You dragged me out here to finish this stupid experiment, just tell me what to do so we can be done with this crap!” 

“Do not look so angry with Zim! You have been enjoying yourself here, right? Do not lie to me, I’ve caught you smiling!”

Gaz grumbles to herself and rolls her eyes, glaring at the alien from underneath her eyelashes. 

“If you keep stalking me after this I’m going to kill you,” she threatens coldly, stealing a fry off of Dib’s tray and biting it with the force used by a merciless vampire when sinking its fangs into a neck.

“Your threats are empty,” Zim says dismissively. “Zim has nothing to fear from you, Gaz.”

“You want to test it? Go ahead, push your luck!” 

The alien hesitates to answer, causing Gaz’s lips to pull into a content smile. Even after all these years she still derives great joy from scaring others.

“You promised me that you’d leave me alone if I went to the mall with you. Does your race do the whole oath thing or not?”

Zim sighs and slumps over, looking defeated. “Irkens do have oaths and we are known for keeping them...Fine, Gaz-thing, Zim will leave you alone once we leave. I am sorry to have caused you so much grief.”

Gaz looks confused by Zim’s resigned look of failure. It’s not typical of the alien to give up so easily without a fight, especially considering how addamant he’d been about the entire experiment.

“What was this experiment about anyway, Zim?”

“None of your business,” Zim says through a heavy sigh, drumming his fingers against the tabletop. “Perhaps I may complete it yet with a different subject…”

“Maybe,” Gaz says breezily with a shrug, unable to fight the pangs of guilt in her chest. If she knew what the hell Zim was looking for here, maybe she could help him out….

Gaz is distracted from her guilty lamentations when she spots a certain someone being escorted from the mall by a burly and annoyed looking security guard. The boy currently being booted from the mall spots Gaz and grins ear to ear, waving at her as he’s dragged by.

“Hey, Gaz!” He shouts, catching Zim’s attention as well.

“Hey…” Gaz manages to mumble weakly, fluttering her fingers in his direction. 

Zim stares at his friend’s sister, noticing that her cheeks are suddenly an odd shade of pink and her eyes are wide…

“Victory for Zim!” The Irken cheers, hurriedly flipping through his notepad to check and make sure that Gaz truly is exhibiting all of the symptoms of a vicious love sickness. 

Dilated pupils? Check!

Flushed cheeks? Check!

Stuttering and/or sudden onset shyness? Check!

“What are you yelling about?” Gaz asks, eyes still glued to her delinquent crush as he’s forced out of the sliding doors, skateboard tossed out after him.

“You are in love with the beanie wearing boy!” Zim says excitedly, causing Gaz’s already pink cheeks to burn red.

“Keep your voice down!” 

“You have to tell him!” Zim urges with a wicked grin, grabbing Gaz by the wrist and attempting to drag her towards the exit.

“What?! Are you crazy, no!” The teenage girl protests, digging the heels of her boots into the tiled floor and flailing helplessly. “Come on, Zim, let go of me before I fucking deck you!”

“But your love is outside, Gaz, just waiting for you to confess your affections!”

Gaz manages to pull herself free from Zim’s iron grip and flees back to their table. She knows that Zim can be clueless as hell when it comes to how the world works, but this sad, even for him. Doesn't he get that she can’t just go tell her friend that she likes him? Doesn’t he understand subtlety to some degree?

Apparently not, because the ex-invader follows Gaz back to their table with a very confused and disappointed look on his face. So close, yet so far….

“I’m confused,” he admits after a few tense seconds of silence. “I thought you showed the signs of being in love with that hipster guy…”

Gaz groans, wondering if this is how her dad felt when he first found porn in her search history. “I do like him, Zim, but he’s my friend! I met him in junior high the year you and Dib went up to the high school. I had no one to sit with without you two losers there and I ended up hanging out with him instead. His name is Todd, we met in detention...we have a lot in common.”

“If you and this Todd are so similar and enjoy each other’s company, why don’t you ask him to be your mate?” Zim asks, even more confused now than he was before Gaz’s inadequate explanation.

“Because we’re friends! Don’t you get it?!” Gaz asks with a pitiful moan, burying her flushed face in her hands. “If I tell him that I like him as more than a friend but it turns out that he doesn’t like me as more than a friend, we’re done! I’ll ruin what we have.”

“Oh,” Zim mutters, utterly shocked. He hasn’t expected human courtship to be so risky…

“Yeah,” Gaz mumbles with a sigh, looking out through the glass doors to watch Todd perform an ollie in the parking lot. 

“There are more subtle ways to express your love, aren’t there?” Zim asks. “On Irk we just ask but here it seems that you have to do a series of steps.”

Gaz chuckles to herself and nods. “Kind of, we try to impress our crushes. Damn, I so wish I was an Irken, then I could just ask him. How do you guys take rejection?”

“Sort of like humans, we move on and simply stay friends,” Zim answers with a shrug, jumping in his skin when Gaz lets out a roaring laugh.

“We humans say ‘oh, it’s okay, we’ll stay friends’, but we don’t really do that. Everything’s awkward once the cats out of the bag and it usually ends with you both avoiding each other out of embarrassment.”

“Why are your courting rituals so complex?!” Zim bellyaches pathetically. 

“Hey, I have no idea, buddy, join the club,” Gaz replies, patting the green boy on the back. “Was this what the dumb experiment was about? Human dating?”

“Yeah…” Zim admits with a sigh. “I feel as if I have gathered enough data to come to the conclusion to just give up…”

“Give up what? Are you back to trying to take over the world or so-.....oh,” Gaz mutters, cutting herself off as all of the pieces fall into place and present her with the glaringly obvious answer. 

“You’re in love with my brother.” 

The Irken doesn’t even bother denying it, all too aware how awful his attempts at covering up his true motives and emotions have been. “Yes, but after this study-“

“No seriously, just ask him out,” Gaz insists with a soft smile, shaking her head. “Forget the stupid experiment and ask him to be your boyfriend.”

“But I’ve just learned that-“

“No, no, no! All of that bull shit doesn’t apply with you and Dib, okay? Trust me, he likes you just as much as you like him, ask him out.”

Zim feels himself blush as he shrugs, avoiding eye contact. “I think it would be stupid to just ask…”

“Then take him on a date!”

“I thought that this counted as a date.”

“Uh, no, not with me third wheeling it like a trike!” Gaz teases, giving the Irken a playful nudge. “Seriously, just do a dumb, stereotypical date and ask, or do a...Irken date, whatever.”

Zim feels his lips pull into a smile as he nods. “Thank you, Gaz-thing. Now Zim just needs to plan an ideal date by human standards…”

Gaz smiles, feeling like she could start up her own matchmaking service if she damn well pleased.


	2. Chapter 2

If Zim’s experiment taught him anything other than not to invade Gaz’s privacy, it’s that the human world of dating and love is much more complicated than he had anticipated. Yes, Gaz told him that the Dib would say yes if he was simply asked but…..Zim doesn’t want to just ask him!

The Dib deserves much more than a simple Irken mating proposal. He is determined, and smart, and witty, and gentler at heart than any human Zim has ever encountered. Such an amazing human deserves an equally amazing mating proposal...if only Zim could figure one out.

“What do humans do to ask their mate to be with them?” Zim mumbles to himself. “Gaz-thing told me that I cannot invite anyone else, which is common sense, I suppose...Gaz-thing also told me that many humans try and impress their hopefully-soon-to-be mate...Irkens do that, too, even if they won’t admit it…”

“Master, I made pizza rolls!” GIR squeals from the kitchen with a giggle. “You want some?!”

“I am very busy, GIR! Do not disturb the almighty Zim while he plots!” The Irken shouts as he continues to look through all of his notes taken during the experiment, hoping to find something useful. 

“Plottin’? What are you plottin’? I thought we was done with takin’ over the world, Master!”

“We are, GIR, but I have other conquests in mind…” Zim mumbles, disheartened to find that the majority of his notepad pages are filled with subpar sketches of Gaz’s ‘angry face’ and lopsided hearts pierced by arrows. All in all, there are very few things of value for the alien to observe...stupid emotions, skewing his judgement!

“Master! Master! You want some pizza rolls?!”

“GIR, I told you not to disturb me!” Zim snaps, shaking his head as he lets out a discouraged sigh. “Your pizza rolls cannot help me in my mission for love…”

“Pizza rolls help everything!” GIR exclaims defensively.

Zim ignores his defective robot and instead tries to focus on ‘date’ ideas. He wants to whisk the Dib off of his feet, utterly and completely astound him to prove his worth, but he can’t think of anything for the life of him!

“Maybe I need to take a break,” the Irken mumbles to himself, recalling a very valuable piece of advice given to him from none other than his precious Dib-pig.

During the eighth grade, all students were required to take a lengthy standardized test to determine which classes they should take during their high school years. Zim, even without any parents to be angry or disappointed with him if he were to fail, was still determined to do well on the placement test, despite his below mediocre grades during the rest of the year. In his efforts to make this happen, Zim spent hours upon hours studying, cramming as much as he could. 

Dib picked up on the alien’s stress and figured that he wasn’t used to such deadlines and anxiety-triggering events, so he gave him a hand.

“You can’t do it all in one night,” Dib had told him, closing the heavy civics textbook with a sound thud and tossing a bag of chips at the alien’s head. “Take a break, Zim.”

“But if we take a break we will never finish studying! This is why humans are inferior to Irkens! We work all day and night, expending all of our energy at the task at hand while you humans laze around and waste time!”

Dib had simply rolled his eyes and flopped over on the bed, smiling in a way that Zim would dare call endearing. “You get fed up if you work for too long without a break...everything works that way. Sometimes you just need to relax for awhile and clear your head before trying again.”

At the time Zim had doubted him, reluctantly accepting his friend’s salty snacks and casual banter, but he quickly learned that Dib was right and quite everything works that way. 

Whenever Zim has been staring at an algebra equation or attempting to fix an invention for far too long, nothing makes sense anymore. If he walks away from the project for a while, chats with the Dib or begrudgingly watches TV with GIR, and then comes back to it later, all of the missing pieces suddenly fall into place.

Zim decides to try this tactic now, leaving his lab and joining his robotic companion in the living room. GIR is sitting in the middle of the couch, an oversized bowl of pizza rolls balanced precariously on his lap as he channel surfs so fast that Zim can’t even distinguish one program from the next.

“Master! You goin’ to join me?!” GIR asks excitedly, scooching over and patting the free cushion, all but screaming in joy when the alien hesitantly plops down next to him. “Oh man, we are gonna have so much fun! It’s been forever since you’ve watched TV with me!”

“I figured I needed a break…” Zim mumbles, stuffing his mouth full of cheesy pizza snacks. “What are you watching, GIR?”

“I dunno,” the robot admits with a shrug and high pitched laugh. “My monkey show ain’t on...what do you wanna watch?”

Zim shrugs, foolishly giving GIR full control of the TV. The only time the invader watches TV is when he is spending time with the Dib, and even then they really only ever watch Mysterious Mysteries, classic horror movies, and stupid cartoons that always manage to draw immature laughter from the two of them, so the invader isn’t too knowledgeable about what the kids are watching these days.

“Ooh! This is a good movie!” GIR mutters excitedly, squirming in his seat and nearly knocking the bowl of pizza rolls onto the floor. “You’ll like this one, Master!”

Zim laughs under his breath, as judging by the looks of it, this is absolutely not a movie he would ever choose on his own. No explosions, no apocalypse, no violence, and no monsters...oh well. 

Instead of Zim’s beloved action and adventure, the TV screen currently displays an elegantly dressed man, all dolled up in his suit and tie, driving his shiny and expensive looking car down the highway without a single care in the world.

“Ha, look at him! Thinking he’s so special despite his fragile mortality!” Zim cackles. “What a pathetic bag of meat!”

“Shh!” GIR hisses, putting a metallic finger to his own mouth. “It gets good here…”

“Does he drive over a cliff?!” The alien asks excitedly, leaning forward to sit quite literally on the edge of his seat. 

“Uh, nope.”

“Does the car explode, burning in a blaze of glory?!”

“Nu-uh.”

“Is there a sudden extraterrestrial invasion that results in the end of the world?!”

“No.”

“Killer clowns?! A sudden onset plague?! Nuclear war?!”

“No, no, and no!” GIR chirps happily.

Zim huffs, stubbornly crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at the TV screen. 

GIR must be even more dysfunctional than he had ever thought him to be if this bland movie is something he considers to be ‘good’. There’s nothing happening! Just a snobbish man driving his equally snobbish car and-oh wait, now he’s parking alongside a bustling sidewalk and opening his glove box to retrieve…a gun.

“Where is he? What is he doing?”

“Just wait and see!” GIR insists with a smile, kicking his legs like a toddler sitting in a high chair. “It ain’t no monkey show, but it’s good! That guy is John Bold, a super cool secret agent with all kinds of shooty gizmos and fast spy cars! He goes on all sorts of adventures, jumpin’ through windows and blowin’ stuff up….you’ll like it!”

Zim would argue if he wasn’t actually genuinely curious as to what this man is doing, walking through a crowd with a gun...is he the good guy or the bad guy? What are his intentions? GIR said he’s a secret agent...perhaps this film isn’t so terrible after all…

The suavely dressed John Bold keeps his handheld pistol at his side, and somehow none of the other humans around him seem to notice. Zim finds this pretty believable, as he’s spent years living amongst humans with only a subpar disguise without drawing much attention to himself. Humans do tend to be pretty oblivious, after all.

John Bold ducks out of the crowds, slipping into a dark and ominous looking back alley, still without catching any wandering eyes. He seems to have a destination in mind, leaping over a dumpster like an agile feline and taking a sharp, decisive left hand turn. He draws up his gun, keeping an eye out for any unexpected guests.

Zim can’t help but jump when he suddenly shoots, bullet ricocheting around the seemingly empty alleyway.

“You’re not as skilled of a huntress as the previous owners of the furs you wear, my dear,” the man says teasingly, lips pulling into a tight, formal smile. “Come on out, let me see that beautiful face.”

“Eh?” Zim splutters, raising an eyebrow in confusion. This is bizarre banter to exchange with the enemy, as it’s not the least bit intimidating or anger-provoking. Perhaps this John Bold could benefit from a day or two in the presence of a few high school students in order to learn to properly insult or, as the kids say, ‘throwing shade’’.

“Shh,” GIR hushes yet again, directing his master’s attention back to the television screen. 

“It took you long enough to find me,” a feminine voice replies from within the shadows, causing the protagonist’s smile to widen. “You’re getting sloppy, John, letting bad girls like me get away with crime for far too long.”

John laughs heartily and lowers his gun as a woman slinks out from the shadows, adorned in a fox coat that would leave Cruella Deville green eyed. 

“Why is she wearing dead animals?” Zim asks, making a face of disgust. There are still some things about the human race that seem so barbaric, even after so many years of trying to bury his Irken bias…

“You look ravishing as ever,” John coos, only serving to further baffle Zim as to what exactly is going on between these two. Are they together romantically or is this simply a ballsy game of chicken?

“Why thank you!” The woman purrs, slinking up behind the man and wrapping her gloved arms around his chest, pulling at his tie. “I only dress this way for you, John…”

Zim glances over at GIR and snickers, watching as his robotic companion squeals gleefully and wildly flails his arms, clearly enjoying this movie, despite it’s evident lack of a logical plot.

“GIR, why are they holding one another in such an intimate manner? It appeared that this Bold man intended to shoot her, and now he’s trying to eat her face…”

“They’re in loooooove!” GIR purrs, reaching over and grabbing Zim by the shoulders, pulling him close. “Ain’t it beautiful?! Look!”

Zim stares blankly at the TV screen, watching as John and the fox-wearing woman continue to heatedly kiss, clawing at one another’s faces in a hurried manner that looks almost painful...is this love? Zim has seen couples in the hallway at school rutting against one another in a similar, desperate fashion...perhaps this is the way to go…

“GIR, how do you know that these two are in love, besides their sharing saliva? They were prepared to kill one another mere moments before. What changed?”

“If you watch the whole movie, you can tell!” GIR chirps, finally sending the half-eaten bowl of pizza rolls toppling onto the floor from his jerky movements. “They kiss a lot, and there’s this one scene where they got out to dinner!”

“They go out to eat in public?” Zim asks for clarification. “I have eaten with Dib-pig in public before….why does he not understand my intentions?”

“You can’t just eat in public, Master! You gotta make it all romantic!”

“How does one do that, GIR? How can I make it romantic?”

“You gotta surprise ‘em! In the movie, John Bold doesn’t tell his mistress about his plans to take her out for dinner, he just promises her a fun night. John dresses up all nice, too, no jeans or anything like that! There’s candles, too, and a bunch of fancy people music!”

“Fancy people music?” Zim asks, confused. “What is this fancy people music?”

“Aw, you know, Master! Them violins and stuff,” GIR says with a laugh, giving Zim’s cheeks a squeeze before rolling off of the couch and onto the floor, squealing yet again as he watches John Bold sweep his lover up into his arms in a horribly dramatic fashion.

“So, if I take the Dib out to dinner, dress in a way that the humans deem nice, and involve candles and violin music….the Dib will understand and become my Dib?” Zim mumbles to himself, face scrunched up thoughtfully. 

That would constitute as a date, right? 

“A dinner date...hmm…” The alien muses, suddenly feeling warm and tingly all over with both excitement and nerves. What if he manages to mess this up? What if Gaz-thing is wrong and Dib doesn’t want to be his mate?

“Look at ‘em kiss, Master!” GIR screams, failing to distract Zim from his thoughts with his obnoxious screaming and laughter.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The band room is booming with noise, the instructor’s agitated voice barely audible over all of the random, mismatched notes and half-yelled chit chat.

“Hey! Come on, guys, listen up!” The frazzled instructor yells, shaking her head and letting out a heavy sigh. “The band has to perform at this Friday’s football game, and the orchestra has a concert in only two weeks! We all really need to focus and work towards perfecting our numbers!”

The room gradually quits down. Students cease to whisper and play on their phones in favor of actually practicing in order to avoid looking like a bunch of idiots come their performances.

The instructor takes great relief in this, smiling to herself triumphantly.

“Alright then! Band kids, you’ll be staying in here with me this period to go over the new sheets. Orchestra, you’ll be in the gymnasium with Mr. Imogene to go over your numbers. Make sure you take a schedule on your way out!”

The room grows noisy yet again with the commotion of people and heavy instrument cases being moved. As the crowds reseat themselves and head out the door, an odd ball out catches the instructor’s eye; a new, unfamiliar face….with a slightly green complection. 

“Oh, do we have a new student here with us?” She asks with a friendly smile, causing everyone remaining in the band room to turn around in search of the new kid. “What’s your name, honey?”

“I am the almighty Zim!” The odd kid, familiar to a few of the juniors, exclaims proudly. “I am here to observe your fancy violins!”

The instructor, admittedly confused, simply shakes her head. “The violins are in the orchestra. Do you play or are you a beginner? We offer classes as an elective with no experience required! Would you like to sign up?”

Zim, uninterested in actually joining the band or the orchestra, turns on his heel to walk out of the room, following the trail of orchestra students to the gymnasium. He leaves behind a room full of amused yet baffled students, all whispering and giggling as they watch him go.

“What’s with that guy?!”

“Oh, that’s just Zim…”

“Is there something, like, wrong with him? That was pretty weird.”

“Not that anyone can tell, he’s just sort of...eccentric, you know?”

“Does he always talk in the third person like that?”

“No, he usually screams in the third person like that.”

Zim swaggers down the hallway and enters the packed gymnasium like he owns it, squeezing himself into the bleachers among the other students and instrument cases without a care in the world.

Unfortunately, the orchestra conductor, Mr. Imogene, isn’t as welcoming as the last band teacher had been, lips curling into a disapproving frown the moment his eyes land on the unfamiliar pupil.

“Hey, you!” He shouts, waving his stick in Zim’s general direction. “You aren’t a part of the orchestra, are you? What are you doing here?”

“I am here to observe!” Zim replies with a proud smile, jumping to his feet and gazing down at the confused, acne-ridden faces of his classmates. “I request to hear the violin! Show me how one makes it sing!”

Mr. Imogene raises a disbelieving eyebrow before letting out a gruff laugh. “Holy hell, kid, where’d you come from?”

“Eh? I come from Earth, just like every other normal worm babies in this room! We are all normal worm babies, are we not?! Huh?! Huh?!” Zim asks as he begins losing his cool, thinking that someone else besides the Dib-pig is on to him.

Mr. Imogene is not amused, even when almost all of his pupils begin to chuckle and whip out their phones, filming the bizarre incident. 

“Look, I don’t know if this is an early senior prank or what, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave so I can get practice underway, alright?”

“But I need to hear the fancy violin! I have been told that they are very, very good at helping one attract a mate!”

“Then why is Braden still single?!” One boy shouts out with a laugh, earning himself an angry shove from Braden and a roar of laughter from his bandmates. 

“That’s enough, kid,” Mr. Imogene says with a sigh. “I’ll ask you one more time, please leave so that I can get practice started here.”

“Please, Zim only requests someone to show him how to pluck the strings of a violin! Anyone! Help a fellow hyooman out!”

Another round of tear-jerking laughter ensues, and Mr. Imogene now looks thoroughly pissed. He throws down his conducting stick and marches closer to the bleachers, face bright pink as he attempts to shout over the boisterous laughter.

One student, noticing how fed up her teacher has become and being semi-familiar with Zim’s odd antics since their time in middle school together, stands up and attempts to save the day. She pulls Mr. Imogene aside and explains that Zim is pretty ‘foreign’ and doesn’t fully understand how things work, sometimes committing offenses worse than this one.

Mr. Imogene really isn’t all that consoled, still proceeding to storm up into the bleachers, grab the weird green kid by the back of his shirt, and all but toss him out of the gym and into the hallway.

Zim lays on the tiled floor in a daze, laughter ringing in his ears as he lets out a sigh. There goes the fancy violins...oh well. Maybe he can still find a way to make this work without them. 

Dib-pig has never really listened to classical music much anyway, perhaps his opinion of romantic music is different and there is hope yet.  
\-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Hey, what are you doing, loser?” Gaz asks as she walks in the door, smiling to herself and fighting the urge to skip like some little kid. 

She just got home after a long, grueling day of school followed by some one-on-one time hanging out with Todd at the movie theatre, hopping screenings and snacking on junk food.

Gaz swears that she’s not overly pathetic, but when Todd slipped an arm around her shoulders during their second viewing of that vomit inducing rom-com she almost squealed out loud...gross.

“Hey, you’re home late,” Dib shouts from the living room, shooting a teasing smile his sister’s way. “Were you out with a friend?”

“Yeah,” Gaz says with a small sigh, cheeks flushed. 

“A special friend, maybe?”

“Shut up, Dib. We’ve been over this, Todd and I aren’t a thing, okay? We’re just friends! I can be just friends with a guy!”

Dib laughs and puts his hands up in surrender, ducking as his younger sister peels off a shoe to toss at his head. “Sorry, sorry! Say what you want, but-”

“I don’t like him!” Gaz shouts, eyes narrowing into lethal slits as she crosses her arms over her chest. “We’re friends! Do you know what that means, Dib?! Or are you anti-social enough to seriously not know what a friend is?!”

“I know what a friend is, and I also know what a crush is…” Dib teases with another laugh, grinning ear to ear when his sister gives him a playful smack. 

“So...maybe I like him…” Gaz mumbles with a nonchalant shrug that completely contradicts her flushed face and quivering bottom lip. “He’s nice, funny, and doesn’t smell like shit..”

“Most guys do smell like shit,” Dib agrees quietly with a shudder, remembering how goddamn awful the locker room in junior high had smelt. He and Zim had made a game out of it, trying to come up with perfume-esq names to label the certain, god awful smell of it all. 

“He treats me right…”

“A must, unless you want me to kick his ass.”

“He has a lot in common with me…”

“Necessary if you want to have meaningful conversations.”

Gaz pauses, unable to bite back her smile as she stares up at the ceiling with a dreamy look on her red face. She’d love to just shrug this all off and act like she has no interest in her friend, but she’s so deep in this emotion now, unable to think straight when Todd is on her mind…

“Yeah...I guess I like him…”

Dib smiles to himself and shakes his head, watching as his usually ill-tempered sister slowly wanders around the room, staring off into space with a dorky smile. She’s got it so fucking bad, it’s really not even funny.

“So you were with Todd?”

“Yeah, we went to the movies, saw bits and pieces of five different movies and ate the over priced candy.”

“Oh, how beautifully cliche,” Dib coos, laughing again when his sister gently kicks his thigh, still smiling like a total schmuck. “When’s the wedding and who’s your bridesmaid.”

“You.”

“I can’t be the bridesmaid, dumb ass, you need a girl.”

“Hey, it’s my fucking wedding, you’ll put on whatever gorgeous dress I buy for you to wear without complaint, alright?” Gaz asks with a joking grin, flopping down on the sofa and looking down at her idiot older brother, watching him fiddle around with two ten-sided dice and a stack of papers. 

“Are you seriously playing ‘Dangerous Tales’ by yourself, Dib? I love you, but that’s a new low, even for you…”

“Zim was supposed to come over...he’s not here yet though, and it’s been three hours…” Dib mumbles, smile vanishing from his face as he glances over at the digital clock on the DVD player and tries not to look as disappointed as he clearly is. “I guess he’s a no show today...”

“Don’t look so down, dude, he got detention. He’ll probably be here in twenty minutes,” Gaz says with a scoff, finding her brother’s desperation adorable in a twisted way. “He’d never ditch you.”

“He got detention?” 

“Why do you look so surprised? He’s gotten in trouble before...several times. Seriously, are you forgetting all of junior high or something? He held the record for most in-school suspensions!”

“I believe it, I just...he usually tells me when he gets in trouble. Do you know what happened?” DIb asks, eyebrow furrowing. Sure, Zim did used to be prone to get himself in the hot seat, but he seems to have been avoiding trouble pretty well these last few months…

“He interrupted orchestra practice and the hard-ass teacher was pissed.”

“Why’d he interrupt the orchestra?” Dib asks, looking confused. “Usually when Zim gets himself in detention it’s because he got into a screaming match with Zita or one of her little friends during class or skipped….”

“Beats me, all the kids were saying he was intent on someone playing the violin for him up until the moment the teacher dragged him away. Probably just another stupid experiment gone wrong,” Gaz suggests with another shrug, barely suppressing her glee as her cell phone buzzes with a text from Todd. “He won’t do it again.”

“You never know with Zim,” Dib sighs, running a hand through his hair and letting out a sigh. “What sort of experiment is he conducting that requires knowledge about the violin?! Is it the same one he used you as a subject for?”

“No, we finished that one up last week at the mall,” Gaz says distantly, grinning wildly at the series of unintelligible emojis that are currently blowing up her phone. 

Dib sighs again, flopping onto the floor with a sound thud and playing around with the dice anxiously. Zim sure has been acting weird lately, getting himself into trouble again and doing things he usually loathes...maybe he’s finally trying to embrace typical teenage culture? 

Dib doubts it, because if Zim really gave a damn about being a normal teenager he’d surely stop hanging out with him to go on ghost hunting expeditions in the old, abandoned supermarket and playing Dungeons and Dragons with him shamelessly.

Dib is distracted from his bellyaching when he hears the loud shattering of glass from upstairs, signifying that Zim has, per the norm, broken into his bedroom via window and has arrived.

“Dib-stink! I am ready to demolish the cave-dwelling dragon with you!” Zim shouts as he uses his PAK legs to descend the staircase. “Are you prepared?!”

“You know it!” Dib chirps, smiling as Zim settles down beside him and snatches up the dice. “I’m warning you know though, this isn’t going to be an easy battle. We’re probably going to lose some supplies in the process…”

“Zim is not a mighty elf because he thinks the journeys and battles are to be easy!” The Irken replies with a devious smile, both him and Dib turning to Gaz with pleading eyes in hopes of her caving in and playing along.

Gaz simply replies by rolling her eyes. “No, I am not stooping down that low and playing your nerdy D and D rip off with you!”

“You can be an elven warrior or a witch?” Dib offers hopefully with a sheepish smile. “Vampire, werewolf, princess, fairy…”

“There are centaurs, demons, and sphinxes, too,” Zim offers. “Zim personally thinks you would make an excellent vampire or sphinx.”

“So you’re an elf, Zim?” Gaz asks, quirking an eyebrow. “And I’m guessing that my idiot brother here is a wizard?”

“Warlock,” Dib corrects matter-of-factly. 

“Ok, yeah, sure, that sounds so much better,” Gaz mutters sarcastically, reluctantly plopping down on the floor with them. “A vampire is way cooler than an elf or a wizard…”

“Warlock.”

“Can I invite Todd over? He says he’s a big fan of this game and a level eight werewolf from the Omega Pack...whatever that means…” Gaz mutters, staring down at her phone with narrowed eyes.

“Jesus, I don’t know, Gaz...boys? Dad wouldn’t like it if I let you have boys come over…” Dib says with playful ignorance. “Do I know this Todd?”

“Yes, Gaz-thing, boys over at this house are a very, very bad thing,” Zim plays along with a smile, letting out a wicked howl when Gaz moves to tackle her brother onto the carpet.

“The more the merrier! Besides, I’ve never had a werewolf join us before,” Dib says with a laugh, wrestling around with his irate sister as he tries to snatch away her phone. “What do you say, Zim? Should we let Todd join the party?”

“As long as he aids us in our battles by fighting valiantly!” Zim declares, causing Dib to laugh and Gaz to roll her eyes.

“Nerds…”  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The violins have been shot down, but Zim is not ready to give up on his dinner date idea. Irkens are not quitters, they keep trying until they get the result they want, and in this case, Zim will keep trying to seduce the Dib-pig until he is his mate.

Ixnay on the violins, but perhaps Zim can still get a suit and tie to impress the Dib with his dashing good looks. The only issue is that Zim doesn’t own any suits or nice Earth clothes. He doesn’t wear his invader uniform anymore and has in fact transitioned to normal human clothes, but he never expected that he’d need ugly loafers or stuffy blazers…

Not to fret, though, as Zim will simply ask Gaz-thing for guidance once more. He can’t ask her at lunch in front of the Dib, but perhaps he can catch her during her study hall after school.

The Irken has success, spotting Gaz almost immediately after entering the library. He would scream of his victory, if not for the stern librarian eyeing him up and making sure he doesn’t speak above a whisper.

“Gaz-thing?” Zim hisses as he slinks up to her table. “Gaz-thing, I need your help!”

Gaz, who is in the middle of pretending to read her English novel whilst secretly texting Todd, shoots Zim a look of annoyance. 

“What?”

“I need a suit and tie,” Zim whispers, seating himself across from her and sitting upright. “Can you help me?”

“A suit and tie?” Gaz asks curiously. “Why do you need-”

“Courting rituals,” Zim whispers, waving it off with a flick of his wrist. “I need to dress nicely, do I not?”

Gaz’s lips twitch into a smile and she nods approvingly. “Yeah, dress attire is a must. Suits are typically worn by guys, so I don’t have one...maybe Todd has one you can borrow,” she mutters, turning back to her phone, thumbs flying across the mini-keyboard. 

“Todd was nice,” Zim comments with a small smile. He assumed Gaz being particular as she is wouldn’t fall for an asshole, but the Todd-child was much more polite and amusing than Zim had expected. He was an excellent ‘Dangerous Tales’ player, and a wonderful conversationalist...he also showed great romantic interest in the Gaz-thing, despite her vehement denial.

“You’re in luck, Zim, Todd has a suit and dress shirt to lend you. By the way, he’s rooting for you and says good luck.”

“You told him about my intentions with the Dib-stink?!” Zim asks, horrified. “Gaz-thing, why would you-”

“Hey, he figured it out on his own!” Gaz exclaims, earning her and Zim an angry shush from the librarian. “I didn’t say anything, I didn’t need to say anything. You guys are so fucking obvious, it’s not even funny.”

Zim sighs relentingly and lets it go. “Whatever you say, Gaz-thing. When can I pick up the suit?”  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“You have a letter here, moron!” Gaz sing-songs from the kitchen as she goes through the mail, black lips stretching into a smile as her eyes catch the crudely scribbled on envelope addressed to her brother. 

“It’s probably just junk,” Dib replies from the living room, not even bothering to look up from his history textbook. “Is it crap from The Swollen Eyeball network? I don’t think I’ve gotten my monthly informational letter yet…”

“Nope, but it’s not junk, I suggest you read it,” Gaz replies smugly, dropping the envelope down onto her brother’s open textbook, obscuring his view of the boring paragraphs he’s currently trudging through.

Dib gives his sister an odd look, as they never really get anything interesting in the mail, only the occasional college invite or Swollen Eyeball newsletter, but he opens it regardless, curiosity getting the better of him:

_Dear Dib-stink,_

_This is my formal invite to you to accompany the almighty Zim to dinner this Friday night. I will pick you up at six o’clock sharp if you agree to join me, and I will cover all expenses for the night. Do NOT bring any money!!!_

_I hope to be picking you up on Friday in my Voot Cruiser._

_Your Friend,  
Zim_

Dib can’t help but smile to himself, folding up the letter and slipping it into his jean pocket. He’s not entirely sure how to feel about the letter, he doesn’t fully understand why Zim didn’t just ask him to go to dinner with him, but the formality of it all is a little nice and unusual.

If Dib didn’t know any better, he’d think it was a date.

“What's your alien boyfriend want?” Gaz asks with a knowing smile. “He hell bent on taking over the planet again?”

“No, he just wants to go out to dinner,” Dib replies with a shrug, still smiling. “Looks like I have plans for Friday night.”

“They always involve Zim, don’t they? In middle school you spent your Friday nights fighting with him and trying to save Earth, in junior high the two of you would spend Friday nights playing ‘Dangerous Tales’, and now you’re going out to dinner…”

“It’s not like that, Gaz, you know that,” Dib mutters with a disappointed sigh. “I don’t think he really understands the implications of going out with someone, anyway.”

Gaz simply shrugs, still smiling to herself. “Whatever, Dib. Just saying, he went the extra mile and wrote you a letter instead of asking you face-to-face.”

“Well, it’s not nearly as romantic as the texts between you and Todd,” Dib teases, barely ducking before Gaz hurls her Game Slave at him.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Friday afternoon finally rolls around, Zim awkwardly denying that he sent such a letter the entire time.

“We still on for tonight, Zim?”

“Zim has no idea of what you speak, Dib-worm.”

“Are you seriously still denying that you sent me that letter inviting me to dinner?”

“Zim sent no such thing!”

Gaz rolls her eyes, watching them spat back and forth with great annoyance. She knows both Zim and her brother can be unbearable, but this is just ridiculous.

“Alright, well, I’ll see you tonight at six.”

“Zim has no evening plans!”

“Whatever, alien scum.”

“Ignorant worm baby…”  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Come six o’clock the Voot Cruiser, disguised as an impressive Mercedes Benz, pulls into the Membrane’s driveway. 

“Have fun on your date!” Gaz yells from her bedroom as her brother hurries out the front door too fast for someone who’s not excited. “Use protection!”

Dib rolls his eyes and his sister’s immaturity, but is unable to stop smiling until he slides into the shotgun seat and gets a look at Zim.

“Hello, Dib-pig,” The Irken greets with a nervous smile, messing around with a black tie that hangs down to his crotch.

He looks like a seven year old playing dress up in his father’s work clothes, swimming in a suit and pair of clunky loafers. Despite how awkward the alien looks in his suit and tie, Dib still can’t help but feel a little underdressed in his Vans and hoodie. 

God, does Dib wish that he’d known that this was supposed to be a formal affair, the letter probably should’ve tipped him off.

“Hey, Zim. Uh, nice suit,” Dib says with a smile, unable to deny that the Irken looks cute as hell in the oversized suit. “You look handsome.”

“Why thank you, Dib-thing,” The Irken replies, smile broadening. “You look handsome as well.”

Dib blushes, once again looking down at his casual attire and feeling out of place. It appears that Zim is taking him somewhere upscale, he hopes the hostess won’t throw him out... “Oh, thanks.”

Zim smiles to himself as he pulls out of the driveway, trying to think back to his notes and recall something lovey-dovey to say in order to capture the Dib-stink’s heart, but is currently unable to come up with anything good.

He hopes that their romantic night out is enough to show him how good of a mate Zim would be if given the chance.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After about ten minutes Zim pulls into a very familiar, packed parking lot.

Dib stares out through the windshield, blinking a few times before deciding that, yes, his eyes are not betraying him. There is, in fact, a fat hog head staring right back at him with giant, unblinking eyes.

“We’re at Bloaty's…” Dib mumbles, sounding confused. “Is this where we’re eating dinner tonight?”

“Is there something wrong with that?” Zim asks worriedly, frowning insecurley into the rearview mirror. “Apologies if you were-”

“Oh, no, no, no!” Dib says quickly, shaking his head and smiling softly at his friend. “This is fine, totally fine. I eat here with Gaz all the time, you’ve been here, too, haven’t you?”

“Zim is familiar with the establishment,” The Irken replies uncertainty, fast to exit the Voot Cruiser and re-locking the doors behind him just so that he can open the door for Dib and let him out like a little, green gentleman.

Dib is now totally confused.

Nice suit, odd behavior, pizza joint...something’s up.

“There’s an arcade and stuff here, too, it can be pretty fun...unless you’re playing with Gaz, then it’s downright terrifying. She gets super fucking competitive whenever you challenge her to so much as Whack-a-Mole…” Dib mutters, almost tripping over his own feet as Zim suddenly leaps in front of him in order to open up the sticky, glass doors for him.

“Well, you are here with the almighty Zim, not the silly Gaz-thing!” Zim beams. “I assure you no bad times!”

Dib manages an awkward smile, going inside and thanking Zim for holding open the door. 

Yep, something is definitely going on here...Dib just doesn't know what yet.

“What would you like to get?” Zim asks as they stand in line. “I will buy you anything you wish for, Dib-smell!”

Dib laughs to himself, shooting Zim a smile before squinting up at the overhanging menu. “I usually just get some fries and a coke. What do you want?”

“Simply fries and a caffeinated beverage?! No! Zim will buy you the finest thing this joint has to offer!” The Irken declares as he marches up to the counter, causing Dib to cringe and bury his red face in his hands.

“Excuse me!” Zim yells at the poor soul behind the register. “Present me, the almighty Zim, with the finest food this establishment has to offer! Impress me!”

“Uh...we have a discount on stuffed crust pizza tonight?” The worker offers meekly, slowly backing away as the Irken hops up onto the counter and glares down at him. “Is that what you’re inquiring about, sir?”

“Is that the best you can offer?!”

“I-I think so, yeah…” 

“Very well then,” The Irken says happily with a triumphant smile. “Thank you, slave, I will come collect the food once it has been prepared. Be snappy about it!”

“Zim, you can’t just cut the entire line and yell at the cashier like that…” Dib whispers with embarrassment as Zim grabs him by the wrist and leads him to a tiny booth. “That’s not acceptable here…”

“I see no problem with it! No one stopped me or seemed upset,” Zim replies coolly, plopping down across from the Dib with a smile. “Besides, only the best for the Dib-pig.”

Dib manages a shaky smile and blushes, noticing that several other customers are eyeballing them and shooting looks of annoyance their way. “Thanks…”

“No problem, Dib-pig!” Zim chirps happily, thinking that everything is going according to plan. If only he’d brought a candle, then the deal would surely be sealed. “I would do anything for you.”

Dib’s blush deepens.  
\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Despite the shaky start, the evening is a blast. The food is greasy and mediocre, despite Zim having demanded the very best, and the arcade is crammed full of whiny children, but it’s still fun.

Dib assumes that maybe it’s just being with Zim that makes it fun, but regardless, he has a great evening chowing down on pizza and running around the arcade with Zim in tow. He knows he’s a little old to be such an avid fan of the grainy Mortal Kombat game, and much too old to still be so enthralled with the damn claw machine...but he is.

Zim seems particularly interested in all of the old retro games featuring stereotyped aliens, laughing his ass off about their ‘inferior safety shields and navigation techniques’. He persuades Dib to take a dip into the laser tag arena and takes it to the nth degree, sending packs of little kids scattering, screaming hysterically for their mothers.

It’s the most fun either of them has had in months.

When Bloaty’s closes they reluctantly leave with the crowd of late-nighters, spending a good ten minutes chasing one another around the parking lot, going round and round the voot cruiser. 

The ride home is full of laughter and nostalgic stories about Zim’s old plans for world domination. At the time, of course, none of it was funny, but now, years later, it’s pretty amusing to think that Zim seriously thought the U.S. government would surrender to a mob of gelatin soldiers armed with paintball guns.

“This was great,” Dib says quietly as they pull back into the Membrane driveway, reluctant to get out. “You’re the best to hang out with, you know that, right?”

“Zim is flattered,” The alien croons contently. “You are Zim’s favorite person to be with, too. We must go on more outings like this one.”

Dib nods in agreement with a small sigh, turning to give Zim one last smile before unbuckling himself and opening the cruiser door with a creak. “Thanks again...I’ll see you tomorrow for some Dangerous Tales? Todd’ll be here, too.”

Zim nods and smiles, knowing that this is it. He should lean forward and plant a kiss to the human’s mouth while he still hovers in the car doorway, should claim him...but Zim doesn’t yet have the bravery to do so.

His heart berates him the entire drive home while his squeedly spooch continues to tense and cramp with disappointment.


End file.
